


Genocidio

by GemmaRose



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bilingual Lance, Communication, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dissociative Identity Disorder, Galra Keith (Voltron), Graphic Description, Kidnapping, Kissing, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, M/M, Mild Gore, Sparring, Surprise Kissing, Threats of Violence, Vivisection, holy shit that's a tag?, it's accurate tho lol, probably should've added that tag sooner
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-19
Updated: 2017-01-04
Packaged: 2018-08-23 10:10:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 16,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8323876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GemmaRose/pseuds/GemmaRose
Summary: Lance grew up being warned not to suddenly stop taking his meds, but it’s not like he had the bottles on hand when the plan for the night was just to sneak out and grab some pizza. And out in the depths of space, what was once an inconvenience can become a liability. Or worse, a threat.Crossposted from the Voltron kink meme.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cyborg8981](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cyborg8981/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A quick disclaimer: Lance's DID in this story is heavily fictionalized, based more or less entirely on Genocider Syo from Dangan Ronpa. It is in no way meant to be an accurate representation of DID, or the experiences of real people living with it.

Lance spat the toothpaste foam out in the sink, and blearily reached for the edge of the sink. His hand met smooth space-ceramic, and he squinted at the spot for a minute before remembering. Right, his pills were back on Earth, along with everything he owned that hadn’t been in his pockets or on his person when he was planning to just sneak out and grab some pizza with Hunk and Pidge. He sighed, and raked a hand through his hair. Thankfully the only side effect had been some killer headaches for a few days, but it still made his stomach churn.

He hadn’t experienced a blackout in years, thanks to the prescription Dr. Martinez had given him, and yet he couldn’t remember waking up to shoot Sendak. It could be a normal thing, like how he’d read once somewhere that your brain didn’t record waking up if you nodded back off a few minutes later, but the sinking feeling in his gut told him otherwise. He had no clue what caused the blackouts, he’d only been ten when he stopped having them and it was no longer relevant information, and he really didn’t want to have to find out again.

He shuddered, and grabbed the brush to start on his still-damp hair. He didn’t want to go back to that, missing hours of his life at a time, sometimes even a whole day. There were movies he couldn’t remember going to see, small scars which he didn’t know the origins of, stories Salome and his sisters told which he couldn’t for the life of him recall. Lance shook his head, settling his hair into place, and smiled at his reflection. He’d be careful. That would have to be enough.

\---

Lance shouted as Blue was flung out of the castle, instinctively curling forward to protect his head. Purple lightning raced across the controls, and he shot up towards the ceiling as his Lion suddenly shut down, gravity and inertial dampeners turning off in the blink of an eye. His last thought as he flew towards the ceiling was “fuck why doesn’t Blue have a seatbelt?”

\---

Lance groaned and slumped forward, struggling to open his eyes against the clinging grip of sleep. He had to make sure Blue was okay, that they hadn’t crashed into anything galran while he was out. The smell of something rotting reached his nose, and he gagged as his eyes flew open. Opening his eyes turned out to be a mistake. Directly in front of him was a small, dead animal. It had been partially dissected, its skin and muscles peeled away and pinned to the ground to reveal its internal organs and a whole lot of congealed teal-ish blood.

Lance felt his stomach turn, and only barely got onto his hands and knees before retching. There wasn’t much in his stomach to bring up, but he still dry-heaved a few times before it settled. He staggered to his feet, and glanced around. He was on an alien planet, low leafy plants covered the ground instead of grass and the sky was an ugly yellow, like a bruise. Blue’s head was visible over the top of a hill, and Lance threw up in his mouth a little as he examined his immediate surroundings a little more closely.

He was in a small valley between two hills, and every few yards another animal was staked out. Birds, scaly thing that were probably lizards, fuzzy animals like the one he’d woken up in front of. It was a veritable menagerie of death, and the dark teal stains on his gloves could only mean that he’d done it. Lance gasped for air, and scrambled backwards, up the hill towards Blue. He’d killed those animals, cut them open and staked them out and watched them die, but he couldn’t remember a second of it. It was a blank, like all those times when he was a kid.

He staggered back into Blue and took a deep, grateful breath of the recycled air. Something blinked on the windshield display, and Lance collapsed into the pilot’s seat with a groan. He felt gross, like he hadn’t showered in ages, and the sick feeling of seeing so many butchered animals definitely didn’t help. Blue obligingly brought up the blinking icon, and Lance winced at the number of missed calls he had from Allura. He couldn’t tell her the truth, she’d feel obliged to tell the others and that would destroy their ability to form Voltron. 

Another video link flashed in the corner, and Lance opened it. Allura’s face filled the screen, and he tried for a charming smile. “Hey, Princess.”

“Lance! Thank goodness you’re alright.” Allura beamed. “We’ve been trying to reach you for over half a skip, what happened?”

A skip was about ten days, if he remembered rightly. A chill ran through him at the realization that he couldn’t possibly have been unconscious that whole time. He’d never had a blackout that long before, not even close. “I, uh, got lost.” he chuckled weakly. “Only just got back to Blue.”

“Well, at least you’re alright.” Allura sighed. “I’ll open a wormhole for you just beyond the planet’s moon, and you can join us back at the castle.” she lifted her hand to turn off the link.

“Uh, Princess?” Lance said quickly. Allura paused, looking back at him, and his question about medicine died in his throat. He didn’t even know what chemicals were in the ones he’d been taking, or how much of the dosage had been filler, and for all he knew altean brain chemistry was completely different from that of humans. Their D.I.D. medicine could be useless at best, and toxic at worst. “Am I the last one back?” he asked instead, and Allura smiled at him.

“No. Keith’s Lion was badly damaged in battle, and needs another few hours now to repair herself before she will survive a trip through the atmosphere at escape velocity.”

Lance grinned. At least he’d be able to tease Keith for getting back last. “Cool. See you soon.”

Allura ended the call, and Lance urged Blue to her feet. He had no idea how he was going to explain the blood on his armour, or hide the sight of those dissected animals from the team in mental bonding exercises, but he’d figure it out.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All Spanish has hover-text translations

Astoundingly, his return to the castle went pretty okay. Nobody asked about the blood, just teased him about managing to get lost on an alien planet. They fell back into the routine of space life, training and bickering and fighting galra, and Lance relaxed. His blackouts back home had been infrequent, and it wasn’t like he got thrown around Blue’s cockpit on a regular basis. That sense of comfort and security lasted for all of a week.

Lance squinted blearily at his alarm clock for a second, then his eyes flew open and he sat up. He was in bed, in his altean PJs, and it was morning. None of that made sense. Just a second ago he’d been in his armour, training with the rest of the team. His stomach turned, and he felt like he might throw up. The training robot had gotten around his shield while he was covering Pidge, and he’d blacked out. He’d blacked out in full armour, with his bayard at hand and everything, and this time he’d been surrounded by more than just alien forest creatures. What if he’d hurt the others?

The image of Pidge pinned open on the training room floor came to mind with disturbing detail, and he clapped a hand over his mouth. How the hell could he face them, if he’d done something like that? How could he justify hiding such a massive threat from them? Lance lurched to his feet, and staggered into the bathroom to throw up in the toilet. When he could stand again, he walked over to the cleaning closet and opened it. His armour was inside, clean and shiny. No damage, no bloodstains, nothing to suggest he’d done anything bad while he was blacked out. But then again, the cleaning closet had made his armour look like new after the incident with Sendak, and it had cleaned away the much older blue-green blood without leaving the slightest trace.

The fact that there was no blood anywhere else in the room, though, was heartening. His blacked-out self didn’t seem to be concerned with neatness on that alien planet, so if he’d hurt anyone there would be evidence. Lance pulled himself up as tall as he could, and went back into the bathroom to brush his teeth. He forced himself to focus on anything but yesterday’s blank hours as he went about his morning routine. Brush teeth, shower, get dressed, head down for breakfast. The door to the dining room slid open, and Lance froze. Everyone was already sitting down, his seat empty with an untouched plate of food goo in front of it. That, had never happened before. Not at home, not at the Garrison, and definitely not here.

“There you are.” Hunk grinned, and Lance took a hesitant step into the room. None of them looked hurt, or wary, so he could only guess that he hadn’t done anything too out of character in the time he couldn’t remember yesterday. “I was gonna go looking for you.”

“Just, uh, took an extra long shower.” Lance chuckled, taking his seat and picking up his spork. “Yum, food goo.” he grinned, and Keith frowned at him from across the table.

“You’re acting weird. Almost as weird as yesterday.”

Shit. Lance swallowed his mouthful of goo, and did his best to look innocent. “What, me? Acting weird?”

“It’s more likely than you’d think.” Hunk muttered, and Lance rolled his eyes. Pidge and Shiro groaned.

“See? Weird.” Keith was outright scowling now.

“I’m just not feeling too hot, okay?” Lance huffed, crossing his arms.

“Do you need to use a cryo-pod?” Coran asked. Lance shook his head.

“Mami’s sent me to school with worse.” which was, well, technically true. “I’ll be feeling better by lunch.” he grinned, and hoped that he wasn’t lying.

\---

After the third time he blacked out during training and woke up in bed the next morning, Lance hunted down a pad of paper and a pencil. Shiro was getting jumpy around him, and denying it, and that couldn’t bode well for their ability to form Voltron. He had to leave himself a note, and it had to be in a place where he’d see it but none of the others would. The inside of the door, maybe? Nobody else really came into his room, though most of them had opened the door to poke their head in at some point. Actually, even better, he could leave it in the drawer with his PJs. He’d never woken up in his flight suit or Earth clothes, so he was pretty much guaranteed to see it when he was blacked out.

He hesitated for a minute, then began to write in his neatest handwriting. Memo me apagón: Todo el mundo en este castillo del buque es un amigo. Sí, incluso Keith y los ratones espaciales. No hagas daño a ninguno de ellos. He looked it over, then moved down a few lines and scrawled his name on the right hand side of the page. Note written and signed, he pulled the page free and tucked it in the drawer. Now he just had to hope he’d actually read it next time he blacked out.

\---

It was always disorienting, to be awake one moment and waking up the next without any sort of drowsiness in between. Lance sat up, and before shuffling into the bathroom to shower he looked at the dresser. His note was sitting on top now, with- a reply written underneath? The handwriting was pretty bad, large and childish and spikier than he could remember his ever being. He picked up the paper, and his stomach did an uncomfortable flip that made him glad he hadn’t had breakfast yet.

¿Amigos? jaja, sabía que eras patética pero llamar a esos animales a sus amigos es un nuevo mínimo. Y para que lo sepas, Lance, me duele lo que quiero, cuando quiero. Eso cambia formas muy en particular, se ve como uno voy a disfrutar de la peladura abierta. Pero creo que voy a echar un vistazo a cómo los seres humanos se ponen juntos por primera vez. El grande de color amarillo será molesto para cortar, con todo lo que la grasa, pero una vez que saber lo que se **supone** que los seres humanos para que parezca que puedo averiguar si hay algo interesante acerca de su líder a un lado de su brazo. Creo que voy a hacer el verde de un tercio. Parecen como un blanco fácil, una vez que quitas el arma. Me gusta nuestro arma, por cierto. Es mucho más fácil de lo que replantear cuando están paralizados. Me pregunto si tendrá el mismo efecto en los seres humanos y alteans como lo hizo en esos pequeños alienígenas oh-tan-interesantes. Creo que voy a tener que descubrir por mí mismo la próxima vez. Ah, y mi nombre no está Apagón Lance.

\- Genocidio

Lance’s stomach lurched, and he nearly dropped the paper. He couldn’t be around the others when he was blacked out, not if he was planning to hurt them. But he couldn’t guarantee that he wouldn’t switch during training, not until he was a good enough fighter he could avoid getting hit every single time. And he couldn’t exactly opt out of training. Lance groaned and sank to the floor, curling in on himself. He didn’t want to put his friends at risk, but he couldn’t take any real steps to protect them either, not without telling them. And he could already see how _that_ conversation would go down. ‘Oh, hey guys, I never mentioned it but I have D.I.D. and sometimes I turn into a _fucking psychopath_.’ Yeah, that would pretty well kill their ability to form Voltron.

Lance forced himself back to his feet, and put the paper back down on top of his dresser. Shower first, but then he had to tell someone. Someone who wouldn’t tell the rest of the team, who he could trust to keep this secret and keep an eye on him when he blacked out. The note hadn’t threatened Keith, and Keith could definitely overpower him if it came to that, but Keith would probably insist on telling Shiro. Shiro and Allura, they could both definitely throw him through a wall if they so desired, but they would also tell the rest of the team. That left Pidge, Hunk, and Coran.

Pidge was too small, he could overpower them and- Lance stopped that train of thought in its tracks, and focused for a moment on rubbing conditioner into his hair. Not Pidge left Hunk and Coran, and between them Lance knew who he trusted more. Hunk had been his roommate back at the Garrison, Hunk already knew Lance took meds daily when they were on Earth, Hunk had kept quiet when Lance admitted to breaking rules. Hunk was also apparently his blacked out self’s first target, but Lance knew from experience that Hunk could handle himself in a fight. Self defense had been a fun class.

-

“Hey, Hunk.” Lance caught his friend by the sleeve as they were leaving breakfast, and Hunk obligingly stepped away from the group with him.

“What’s up?” he asked, completely at ease. Lance briefly wondered if the note had been lying about Hunk being his first target, then mentally shook himself and reached into his pocket. The folded paper was stiff against his fingers, and he gripped it tightly.

“So, uh...” Lance gritted his teeth. This shouldn't be so hard! He knew what he had to say, but it was like his throat and chest were constricting around the words, holding them in. “Remember how I was on meds, back at the Garrison?” he asked, wiping his palms on his jeans. He could trust Hunk, he'd already decided on that, so why did he feel so anxious? Okay, he knew why, but that didn’t mean he had to like it.

“Yeah.” Hunk nodded slowly. “Need me to talk to Allura and Coran for you?”

“Pff, no.” Lance waved a hand dismissively. It was a sweet offer, Hunk obviously remembered the month when he'd been off some of his meds due to a prescription mix up, but it wasn't what he needed right now. “Um, some of them…” he exhaled, and forced himself to take a deep breath. Hunk was cool, Hunk wouldn't flip out over this, there was nothing to be scared of. “I have D.I.D.” he blurted, then immediately winced.

“Oh.” Hunk blinked. “Is that why you've been acting weird after training?”

Lance nodded, and tried to force himself to relax. It didn't really work.

“Have you asked Coran about getting some meds?”

Lance shook his head, guilt and that awful, nebulous anxiety roiling in his gut like a cloud of lead. “I don't remember the dosages, or the chemical names, and I mean they're _aliens_ Hunk what's the chance their brain chemistry matches ours? I mean, yeah the pods work an’ all but brains are different. What if the altean treatment for D.I.D. is, like, poisonous for humans?” he stopped to draw a breath, his chest shaking, and Hunk laid a hand on his shoulder.

“Valid points.” Hunk nodded, obviously thinking about what Lance had just said. “How about we go ask Coran about it together after training?”

Lance gripped the paper in his pocket tighter, and shook his head. “I can't- I don't want the others to know.” he pulled out the page and held it out. “I wrote both parts of this note, but I only remember writing the first bit.”

Hunk unfolded the paper, and immediately held it back out to Lance with a frown. “Dude, you know I never took Spanish.”

“It's a threat.” Lance gripped the bottom hem of his hoodie, and Hunk brought the paper back in towards his chest. “When I'm, not me, I can’t remember what I do. I didn’t actually get lost, after the wormhole. I lost a whole week, and when I woke up, I- I was surrounded by mutilated animals. I don't remember writing most of that note, and the bits I don't remember... they talk about killing you guys.”

Hunk’s eyes widened, and Lance clutched his jacket tighter. “It's not fair to ask you to do this, but I-” Lance drew a shuddering breath, and Hunk pulled him into a hug.

“It's okay.” Hunk murmured, squeezing him tight. “I’ll keep an eye on you. You won't hurt anyone.”

“Thanks.” Lance mumbled into Hunk’s shoulder, finally managing to relax a little bit.

“What are friends for?” Hunk chuckled, the sound reverberating through Lance as he lifted his arms to hug back. As long as Hunk could keep an eye on him, his friends would be safe.


	3. Chapter 3

“Alright, everyone.” Shiro said, tapping the thing on his wrist that allowed him to control the simulations. “Take five.”

Hunk groaned and let his bayard dematerialize, grateful to no longer be supporting its entire weight. Lance had gotten clipped on the back of the head when Pidge was forced to move from where they were guarding his back, and Hunk made a mental note to pay extra close attention to Shiro’s after-training comments so he could tell Lance tomorrow.

“Hunk, I need to talk to you.”

Hunk paused, and glanced at Genocidio before turning to face Shiro. “Sure, but can we do that over by the water pouches? I’m thirsty.”

“It’s about Lance.” Shiro was frowning, and Hunk’s stomach flipped uncomfortably.

“What about him?”

“Something’s wrong, but he won’t tell me what.” Shiro’s frown deepened, and Hunk realized that their leader was concerned, not upset. “You’ve been spending your free time with him a lot lately, do you have any idea what’s going on?”

Hunk glanced over his shoulder, and gauged the situation. Genocidio was leaning against the wall next to Keith and sucking on a juice pouch. If Genocidio tried anything, Keith could handle himself. Genocidio was still Lance, after all, and Lance was shit in a fistfight. “I do.” he admitted, looking back at Shiro. “But Lance doesn’t want me telling anyone.”

“Hunk, don’t make me order you.” Shiro’s eyebrows lowered, his frown becoming stern. Hunk shrunk back, shoulders coming up towards his ears. The one downside to being a good, rule-abiding person who never got pegged as a secret-keeper was that he’d never built up a tolerance for expressions like that. And he didn’t have a friend to bail him out now.

“Okay, okay, fine.” he turned his head away. “Lance has D.I.D.”

“Really?” Shiro frowned.

“Yeah, really.” Hunk nodded. “He can’t remember anything he does when he’s not the Lance we know, so he asked me to keep an eye on him and make sure he doesn’t, well, do anything to dumb. Or at least, so I can tell him later what dumb thing he did.”

“Was there a reason Lance didn’t want anyone else to know?” Shiro asked after a long moment.

Hunk wavered for a second, then nodded. Shiro had a right to know that there was a potential threat on the team, “After the wormhole incident, he lost a whole week. And when he woke up, there were, well, he didn’t go into detail but it sounded like he’d killed a lot of animals and messed up the bodies pretty bad.” Hunk curled his fingers into each other, and if he hadn’t been wearing gloves his nails definitely would’ve been biting into the insides of his knuckles. “A few weeks ago, Lance showed me a note he didn’t remember writing. It was about doing the same stuff to us.”

Shiro’s eyes widened, and Hunk immediately wished he could take back everything he’d just said. “I mean, he hasn’t done anything yet, and I’m keeping an eye on him so he won’t have a chance. We can’t exactly lock him up, he’s, well, he calls himself Geno when he’s like this but he’s still _Lance_.”

Shiro’s mouth pressed into a thin line, and for a long minute Hunk worried that he was going to have to stop Shiro from doing something stupid. “I won’t tell anyone else.” he said at last. “But you need to get Lance to talk to Coran about this. He wouldn’t’ve gotten into the Garrison if this was untreated.”

Hunk sighed, and glanced over at Genocidio. “I’ve tried, but he’s convinced that anyone else knowing would throw us too off-balance to form Voltron.”

“Then get Geno to talk to Coran. Just-” Shiro sighed. “Make sure he gets help, okay?”

Hunk nodded. He’d never thought of asking Genocidio to talk to Coran. Lance would probably get pissy at him for it, but Hunk could deal with that. Probably. “I’ll take him there after training. Can we go get water now?”

Shiro cracked a grin, and patted him on the shoulder. “Yeah, let’s get a drink.”

\---

Genocidio swung his legs idly, keeping half an eye on Hunk as he scanned the medical room. There were so many blades in here, beautiful slender things which he didn’t doubt would slice through any sort of skin with ease. He wanted to twirl them between his fingers and feel their handles slick with blood, but of course he couldn’t do that without having a victim first. And right now Hunk was wary, on guard. Loathe as he was to admit it, Genocidio couldn’t deny that he wouldn’t be able to take the larger teen down without the advantage of surprise.

“Alrighty.” the male shapeshifter strode into the room, a weird looking helmet in his hands. “Lance, you get to go first.” he held it out, and Genocidio took it gingerly. “Just put it on, and Hunk can help me get the reader working.”

Genocidio scowled at being called Lance, but placed the helmet on his head anyways. Hunk had apparently arranged with the male shapeshifter to start compiling data on the functioning of human brains, limited though the sample pool was, and Lance had agreed to go first. So now here he was, surrounded by glorious weapons he couldn’t touch and stuck sitting with a stupid alien helmet on his head. At least the helmet he woke up in nowadays looked cool, this one was just stupid.

“Okay, Hunk, you keep holding that until I tell you to stop. Lance, you may feel a slight tingling sensation on your scalp, but I need you to hold still.” there was a moment of silence, and the male shapeshifter frowned. “Blast. Hunk, could you push that button too? No, the other- yes, that one.”

Genocidio lifted a hand to tilt the stupid helmet back so he could see what the idiots were doing, but froze halfway as agonizing pain erupted all through his skull. He screamed wordlessly, but as he tried to shove the helmet off strong hands fastened around his wrists. “Don’t!” the shapeshifter said quickly. “If you dislodge the helmet, the computer will try to read your whole nervous system, and that’s not a pleasant experience.”

“What if I just take it _off_?” Genocidio snarled, trying and failing to pull his hands free. Damn, he’d have to rework his plan for taking down this guy, shifty bastard was tougher than he looked.

“It won’t take much longer, I promise.” the shapeshifter’s tone was consoling, and Genocidio bit back a whimper of pain. He was going to take his time dismantling the male alien, just for this. Pay back every second of agony tenfold. “Hunk release those buttons.”

“Okay.”

The pain abruptly stopped, and Genocidio yanked his hands free of the shapeshifter’s loosened grip to shove the helmet off of his head. It was taken from him before he blinked his eyes back into focus, and then Hunk’s hands were on his face pulling back his eyelids.

“Oh, wow.” Hunk frowned, tilting his head. Genocidio batted his hands away, and got the distinct impression that he only succeeded in that because he was allowed to. “Your eyes are messed up, man.”

“And whose fault is that?” Genocidio grumbled, rubbing at his eyes with the heels of his palms.

“Yeah, my bad.” Hunk grimaced. “I'll walk you back to your room, you should lie down until dinner.”

“Oh, not yet.” the male shapeshifter said quickly. “I can’t get accurate data from only one source, and since you’re here, you get to be the next Paladin scanned!”

Hunk paled, and Genocidio couldn't help but smile. “Can I hold the buttons?”

“Of course!”


	4. Chapter 4

Keith groaned, pressing his head back against his pillow and wishing he’d asked whoever was in here last to turn down the thermostat. He shouldn't have accepted Allura’s offer to condense his transformation. Months and months of discomfort would've been better than a week of this agony.

The door slid open, casting a long rectangle of light into the room, and Keith glanced at the silhouette on the floor with a whimper which he sincerely hoped didn't sound as pitiful as he thought it did. It was Lance, he realized as the door slid shut. But was it the goofy strangely cute Lance he'd met on Earth, or the serious and unfairly sexy Lance who called himself Genocidio? Lance's footsteps were like thunder claps in his aching ears, and Keith pinned the recently-elongated things against his skull to dampen the noise. Lance sat down gently near his knees, and Keith had never been more grateful for the fact that space beds didn’t have springs. The silence stretched on, and as it did Keith relaxed. Or, well, he relaxed as much as he could when his entire body felt like it was made of plasma.

“I only ever take something apart once or twice, y’know.” Lance said softly. “Squirrels, rats, birds, lizards. Once I’ve figured out how they’re put together, where’s the fun in doing the same thing over again?” Geno picked up Keith’s bayard and twirled it between his hands, seeming to examine the weapon. “But you.” he chuckled, a dark sound that made Keith’s stomach twist in ways entirely unrelated to the pain of his transformation. “You’re one of a kind, aren’t you? I’ve got my pick of human boys, and I’m sure nobody would miss a half-dead galra foot soldier or two, but you’re not either of those things.”

Geno scooted over to sit next to Keith’s waist, and tucked the end of his bayard under his chin. “I wonder what you look like on the inside.” he crooned, and Keith’s heartbeat spiked. He barely had the energy to stand, let alone disarm Lance and activate his bayard. What were the odds someone was watching the security feeds right now? Fuck, he wasn’t even sure what time it was but the odds were low.

“Did you know, galra have their hearts here?” Geno tapped Keith’s lower left ribs with his bayard. “Or at least, purebred ones do. I think yours is around here, like other Earth mammals.” Lance rested the bayard higher on Keith’s chest. “Someone would’ve noticed otherwise, right? But I’d _love_ to find out for myself.” Geno shivered, a smile splitting his face that sent chills through Keith’s whole body. He was dead. He was so dead. Lance was going to kill him and then feel guilty about not remembering it and they’d be down two Paladins instead of one.

“It’d be so _easy_ , too.” Geno sighed, trailing Keith’s bayard down the middle of his chest. “You’re too weak to put up a fight, so I’d get to hear you scream and still make a perfect cut.” he turned the bayard ninety degrees to follow the waistband of Keith’s pants. “I could peel you open, feel your muscles spasm under my fingers, find out what colour your blood is.” Geno licked his lips. “It would probably taste great, regardless.”

Keith’s stomach lurched as Geno set his bayard down and leaned over him, one hand planted on each of Keith’s shoulders. “And then, when you’re growing delirious from blood loss, I could cut away all those _delicious_ muscles and find out what’s really underneath.” Geno made a sound Keith had never thought anyone would associate with discussion of imminent first degree murder, and leaned down until their faces were close enough he could feel Lance’s breath on his skin. The smile vanished, and Keith wondered how long it would take for Lance to find his knife in the dresser. Probably not long, he had a minute at most once Geno sat up.

“But this ship would be boring without you, so I won’t do that.” Geno said quickly, a very Lance-like smirk flashing across his face. And then, before Keith could ask what the hell Geno meant by that, the fucker leaned down that last inch or two and kissed him. It was brief, chaste, just a quick brush of lips before Geno was flowing to his feet with a cheery smile and some drivel about needing to get back before his babysitters noticed his absence.

The door swished open, then shut again, and Keith was left lying in the dark with more questions than he’d ever thought he could have about Lance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shorter than my usual chapters, but after yesterday... I'm not gonna have much energy to write for a few days ;_;


	5. Chapter 5

The first thing Lance did, when he realized he was awake, was grimace. His mouth tasted nasty, a combination of sleep and some bitter, long-lingering aftertaste. He was sore, too, and was pretty sure that there would be some impressive bruises when he removed his armour. Wait, armour? Lance’s eyes flew open as he sat up, looking down to confirm yes, he was in fact wearing his armour and flight suit. His dirty, blood-crusted armour.

Lance was on his feet and fully awake in a heartbeat, slamming the door’s operation panel in under a second. The door didn’t open, and Lance slammed it again. They couldn’t’ve locked him in his room, the only reason they would’ve done that was if he- no, he couldn’t think about that, he had to get _out_. he curled his hand against the operation panel, and a crinkle drew his attention.

“Tienes que estar _cagando_. ” Lance groaned, pulling the notepad away from the operation panel. Jeez, he really was an asshole when he couldn’t remember it. What a shitty fucking prank. He looked at the notepad, and sagged against the door as he read the scrawled message.

No se asuste, es galra sangre. También, nos cogió un lindo. Trate de no cagarla, yo en realidad como ésta.

The first line was a relief, but the rest was honestly just, confusing. Had he taken a captive while blacked out? Whatever it meant, he could figure it out after cleaning up. It was stupid early still, which gave him plenty of time to shower and brush his teeth and try to puzzle this out before he had to go and ask Hunk for details.

\---

Lance opened the door, and startled at the sight of someone leaning against the wall opposite the external operation panel. The nice hot shower had calmed him back to his usual drowsy morning state, and for a second all he registered was purple and pointy ears. Then he realized the galra was wearing Keith’s jacket, and his hand fell from his bayard without unhooking it from his belt.

“Morning, sleepyhead.” Keith grinned, and Lance couldn’t help but grin back. Keith had been, well, strangely friendly since he finished his magic-boosted space alien puberty. Sometimes it was just plain weird, but most of the time it just made Lance feel warm from the inside out. This time, thankfully, was one of the latter.

“Mañana.” Lance yawned, slouching past Keith towards the kitchen. Keith fell in step with him, which wasn’t particularly unusual, but after a casual one-armed good morning hug to Hunk and a hair ruffle for Pidge, Lance frowned. Keith and Shiro never made it to breakfast on time, thanks to their stupid early training sessions, but somehow Keith had gotten out early enough to walk with him?

“Hey, Hunk?” Lance asked, leaning against the counter next to where his friend was finishing up the process of turning food goo into something marginally more palatable. Hunk gave a questioning grunt, and Lance glanced into the dining room to where Keith was chatting with Pidge. “Did I do something yesterday? Keith’s not usually in here before breakfast is called.”

“More like he did something.” Hunk grinned. “Keith asked Geno to be his boyfriend.”

Caffeine was great for waking him up in the morning, but adrenaline did the job much faster. “He what!?”

“Asked you, well, Geno, to be his boyfriend. Over comms, no less.” Hunk chuckled. “Shiro had to order both of them to keep it professional until the fight was over.”

Lance’s stomach flipped. He no longer felt like drinking the rest of his space coffee. “I- I think I’ll skip breakfast.” he said weakly, setting the mug down.

“Nope, no way, not happening.” Hunk said firmly, grabbing Lance by the wrist to keep him from bolting back to his room. “If you skip breakfast you’re gonna be all cranky during training, and I know you hate that as much as the rest of us. Now grab that space juice and take it out to the table.” he pointed to a pitcher of yellow-green liquid, and Lance sighed.

“I hate when you’re right.” he grumbled, picking up the juice.

“No you don’t.” Hunk grinned.

He really, really hated it when Hunk was right.

\---

“Hey, Lance.”

Lance hunched his shoulders and ducked his head, making himself as small as possible inside his hoodie. He really didn’t want to have this conversation, especially right before morning training. “I have to get my armour on, Keith.” he said, not slowing his stride.

“And we have to talk.” Keith caught him by the elbow, and Lance’s hands curled into fists in his hoodie pockets.

“About what?” Lance snapped, refusing to turn and face his teammate.

“About us.” Keith pulled on Lance’s elbow, but Lance planted himself and refused to turn. “I know you don’t remember the conversation we had last night, so I wanted to have it again.”

“You mean the conversation where you ask me to date you?” Lance yanked his elbow free and tucked it close to his body, but he didn’t start walking again.

“Well, yeah, that too.” Keith said, confusion evident in his voice.

“Too?” Lance turned around, straightening up slightly as he did so.

“Yeah, too.” Keith frowned.

“What else did you want to talk to me about?”

“Well, dating you.” Keith said hesitantly. Lance raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. “Last night, you were acting like you’re two totally different people in one body.” Keith said, filling the silence before it could get awkward. “So I thought, maybe you would only want to be together as Geno or as Lance, so I’m not cheating on you with, well, you.”

Lance’s other eyebrow joined the first. “That made, like, zero sense.”

“Well you try coming up with a better way to say it.” Keith challenged.

“Sure, if I understood what you were trying to say.” Lance frowned, pulling his hands out of his pockets to cross his arms instead.

“I’m trying to ask if you wanna date, asshole.” Keith snapped. “I don’t want to only date you when you call yourself Geno, or only when you’re Lance, but I need to know you’re okay with it first.” his face was deep purple, ears laid back against his head, and Lance’s stomach flipped in a much less awful way than it had earlier.

“Was that so hard?” he teased, uncrossing his arms and hooking his thumbs in his hoodie pockets.

“Are you going to answer the question or just keep being an ass?” Keith huffed.

“I wouldn’t mind giving it a try.” Lance grinned. Keith wasn’t the type to lie about something like this, but playing it cool was probably a good idea regardless. “I mean, anyone who can make a purple mullet look cute is worth a shot.”

“I thought you hated my mullet.” Keith frowned, lifting a hand to wrap one of the longer locks around his finger.

“Oh, don’t get me wrong, it’s still a disgrace of a hairstyle. You just manage to make it look cute, somehow.” Lance shrugged. “Might be the ears?” he reached out to flick one of them, only for Keith to lay them flat to his skull.

“Just, go get your armour on.” he muttered, still blushing. Lance leaned in to press a quick kiss to his cheek, and Keith made the most adorable little squeak of surprise.

“See you at training, novio.” Lance grinned when he pulled back, enjoying the deep purple which dusted Keith’s cheeks. Keith, his boyfriend. That would take some getting used to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy fuck the last part of this chapter _did not_ want to happen. These boys are so bad at communicating. Originally I was gonna end it here, but that’s doing a goddamn disservice to the klance part of the prompt so there’ll be a bit more coming ;)


	6. Chapter 6

“And _why_ do I have to come with you?” Geno huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “We’ve established that I won’t actually kill anyone on this ship. I don’t need a babysitter.”

“Just shut up and follow me.” Hunk huffed, rolling his eyes and starting down the hall. Geno was pretty chill most of the time, now that he’d decided they were more entertaining alive than dead, but he was about ten times as stubborn as Lance, which made surprises difficult. “I promise you’ll like what I found.”

“Oh, you found something?” Geno practically bounded after him, a wide grin on his face.

Hunk grinned, and didn’t answer. Geno followed him eagerly towards Medical, not even seeming to realize where they were going despite the multiple visits for Coran’s brain scans. Hunk grimaced for a moment just remembering those. Nothing had come of it, not even a decent species-average scan like the castle’s database had for, well, every other species the cryo-pods were programmed to heal.

“Hello, boys!” Coran chirped when Hunk opened the door, quickly minimizing whatever he’d been looking at. Geno turned around to leave, and Hunk grabbed him by the elbow.

“Oh no you don’t.”

“I’m not sitting for another brain scan!” Geno snapped, trying to pull his arm free.

“Do you see the helmet anywhere?” Hunk huffed, pulling Geno away from the door and towards the monitor. “Just trust me, you maniac.”

“Rude.” Geno huffed, but stopped trying to pull free.

“You didn’t tell him?” Coran asked, pulling up the program he’d found while Hunk was helping him fix some things earlier. Hunk shook his head.

“Figured a surprise would be better.” he grinned, releasing Geno’s elbow.

“So long as it’s not a surprise medical check-up, I’ll be fine.” the lanky teen huffed, pulling his elbow in and rubbing it idly.

“Oh, no no no.” Coran shook his head. “Earlier, I recalled a program that you would enjoy.” he picked up the tablet he’d been working on, and tapped an icon. The room’s lights dimmed, and a holographic altean flickered to life above the patient chair. It was scaled down to roughly one third the size of a full-grown altean, and more or less featureless. Hunk had seen it before, when Coran was setting the program up to run in this room, so he kept an eye on Geno’s face as Coran began to remove the outer layers.

Geno’s blue eyes widened, and when Coran turned off the skin layer a smile split his face. Hunk recognized that smile, though he’d never seen Geno wear it before and to see it now was kinda unnerving. Lance smiled like that when he was absolutely elated. Come to think of it, Hunk hadn’t seen Lance smile that way much since they became Paladins. It was understandable, he supposed. Lance had a much bigger family to miss than any of the rest of them did, and he’d video-called them at least once a week. Next time they were planetside and not on a mission, Hunk would find the biggest body of water around and drag Lance there.

“What does that do?” Geno asked, shaking Hunk from his musing and back to the present, where Coran had taken the hologram down to bones and organs. Geno’s finger jabbed into something that Hunk couldn’t even begin to identify, and when the projection moved Hunk’s eyes widened. It didn’t ripple around Geno’s finger, didn’t spin or slide back. It flinched. Geno gasped, straightening up, and poked at a different organ. This time the hologram jumped back, and if it had eyelids still Hunk was sure it would’ve been glaring.

“How does it do that?” he asked, turning to look at Coran. The altean shrugged.

“I’m sure you could find an answer in the library, if you really want to know.”

“I don’t care how the program works.” Geno said, lifting the projection’s arm with one finger and testing its range of motion. “This is the coolest thing _ever_.”

Hunk grinned, and held out a hand to Coran. The altean handed over his tablet, and Hunk tapped Geno on the shoulder with one edge of it. “Wanna see how the muscles work?” he asked, prompting another christmas-came-early grin. Or, well, hanukkah-came-early since Geno was kinda still Lance.

Geno poked at the tablet a few times, and the projection gained muscles. A bit more fiddling and it was full sized, lying on the patient chair like it was a real person. Geno giggled, and a second later a holographic scalpel had appeared. Hunk exchanged a glance with Coran, then jerked his head towards the door. Coran nodded, and left the room quietly.

“I’m gonna step out for a bit.” Hunk said to Geno.

“That’s fine.” Geno replied absently, cutting open the projection’s chest with his simulated scalpel. Its mouth was open, its head thrown back, and Hunk shivered at the sight of something so obviously screaming.

The door shut behind him with a near-silent swish, and Hunk sagged against the wall. He’d never really seen Geno is full crazy mode. How the hell had Keith decided to date both halves of Lance after being on the receiving end of that?

“I think that went well.” Coran said with a grin. “You were right about his curiosity.”

Hunk chuckled, and rubbed the back of his head. “Well, I just figured if he and Lance both think Keith is cute, then maybe they’re both too curious for their own good. If we’re lucky, he’ll be so busy working his way through the castle’s database he won’t think to try his hand on anything actually alive for a while.”

“And when he’s taken apart everything the old girl’s got to offer?” Coran asked, patting the wall.

“I’m not sure.” Hunk sighed. “But we’ve got a while to come up with something, right?”

“That we do.” Coran grinned again. “The castle has got medical data for over a thousand species in her databanks.”

“Let’s just hope he doesn’t get bored.” Hunk said quietly, looking over his shoulder at the door.


	7. Chapter 7

“Report.” Shiro’s voice crackled through Keith’s helmet through probably-damaged speakers. The latest robeasts had come in a pair, clever enough to draw the fight into a place where the Lions couldn’t fit and split up the team, and now that both of them were finally down Keith wasn’t sure where anyone was.

“Everything hurts.” Hunk groaned.

“I’m fine.” Keith said, then winced as his helmet sparked against his cheek. “Armour’s taken a beating, though.” he deactivated the visor and rubbed his face, far beyond caring about grime on his skin.

“Pidge, Lance, report.” Shiro said after a few seconds of static.

“Ugggghhhhh.” Pidge groaned. “Wha’ timeizzi’?”

“Hunk, where did you last see Pidge?” Shiro asked, his voice tight.

“Pretty close. I’ll get ‘em.”

“Pidge, Hunk is coming to get you, but I need you to stay awake.”

“‘s early.” Pidge declared, and Keith’s stomach dropped.

“Pidge, don’t go to sleep.” he said quickly. “Have you seen Lance? Is he with you?”

“No’ sure.” Pidge mumbled after a few agonizing seconds. “Can’ see much.” they chuckled, and Keith heard Hunk curse softly.

“This tunnel’s caved in, it’ll take me another few minutes to get there.”

“Keith, go look for Lance.” Shiro said firmly. “Pidge, what can you see?”

“Arm.” Pidge sounded like they were grinning. “‘s in front of my face.”

“Can you move it?”

“Mmm, nope.”

Keith turned off his comms, and reached for his bond with Red. Blue had called to him in the desert, maybe Red could call Lance to him now, or lead them towards each other. He charged blindly through the maze of tunnels, taking turns more or less at random and trusting Red to guide him. He eventually burst out into a familiar cavern not fifty yards from where he’d started, and skidded to a stop at the first hint of a sound which wasn’t just settling stone or his footsteps ringing off the walls. He quickly glanced at the robeast he’d taken down here with Lance and Shiro, and exhaled when he saw its robotic parts were still dark. So where was the humming coming from?

“Lance?” he called out, and the humming got louder. It was coming from the robeast, but the robeast was dead... Keith rounded the hulking corpse, and his shoulders slumped. Lance’s helmet was tossed carelessly on the ground, sitting in a murky pool of sickly green blood and dull purple quintessence. “Geno.” he said, narrowing his eyes as he approached the huge flap which had been cut out of the beast’s underbelly. The humming got louder again, distinctly a tune Keith was sure he’d heard on the radio back on Earth, and he turned around to turn his comms back on.

“I found Geno.” he said, picking up the discarded blue and white helmet. “Looks like he pulled his helmet off because it got damaged.”

Shiro sighed, and Keith could picture their leader running a hand back over his helmet. “How is he?”

“Well enough to be playing coroner on the robeast we took down with Lance.” Keith glanced over his shoulder at the beast’s open torso. “How’s Pidge?”

Shiro sighed, and Keith’s stomach turned. “Not good. Broken collarbone, couple arm bones, and something in their leg. Hunk is taking them back to the castle. Allura will come down for Green once they’re in a pod.”

“I’ll have Geno back to the Lions by then.” Keith sighed, looking over his shoulder at the peeled-open robeast corpse.

“And Keith?”

“Yeah?”

“Try to explain why that’s not okay?” Shiro sounded tired, like the weight of the universe was resting on his shoulders. It was distantly worrisome to realize that had become normal at some point, but Keith pushed that thought aside for later examination. Right now, he had a boyfriend to wrangle. “I know he has trouble empathizing, but he can’t just do whatever he wants when he wakes up in the field.”

Keith nodded, then remembered that Shiro couldn’t see him. “Will do. Keith out.” he switched his comms back off, and turned around to look at the open-chested robeast corpse. “I know you can hear me in there, Geno.” he said, raising his voice slightly. No response but a slight volume increase in the humming. “Geno, get your ass out here.” he said firmly, walking towards the carcass.

“Gimme a minute, jeez!” Geno called. “This thing’s heart is as big as me. I’m try’na figure out how it’s obeying the square cube law.”

Keith rolled his eyes. Geno was worse than Lance in myriad ways, but his single-minded focus on dissecting/vivisecting aliens was the thing Keith liked least. Partly because, well, _he_ was on the list of things Geno wanted to dissect but also because of moments like this, when Geno would get so absorbed in what he wanted that he completely disregarded everyone else. “I doesn’t have to.” Keith pointed out after a moment. “It’s a druid experiment powered by quintessence, they don’t have to make sense.”

Geno squirmed his way out of the mess of organs and dead machinery to glare at Keith, his hair dark with blood which probably wasn’t his own and mouth set in a scowl. “Yes, they do.” he insisted, jumping down to land in the puddle of blood and spent quintessence with a shallow splash. “I don’t care how much extra energy you throw at something, it still has to be able to hold itself up. Gravity and physics don’t give a shit about space magic.”

Keith sighed. Honestly, some days with Geno had him questioning his own sanity. He couldn’t’ve gotten a crush on a nice, normal alien. No, he just had to go and fall for his annoying, sexy, sometimes legitimately psychotic teammate. Sociopathic? Whatever, he was fucked in the head and Keith had fallen for him anyways. Keith shoved the blue helmet into Geno’s gut, and levelled a finger at his face. “Next time you wake up in the field, don’t take off your fucking helmet.”

“What?” Geno frowned. “The fighting’s over, right? And this place has a breathable atmosphere, so-”

“I thought you might be dead!” Keith snapped, the armoured claw on the end of his index finger screeching against Geno’s breastplate on the word you. “You weren’t answering, and with the cave-in...” he drew a shuddery breath, and exhaled slowly. “When you wake up in the field, we need to be able to contact you. So unless your comms are completely ruined, you don’t take this off.” he poked the forehead of the helmet, claw glancing off the bloody material.

“I would’ve headed back to the castle sooner or later.” Geno was still frowning slightly, like he couldn’t see what he’d done wrong. “It’s not like you would’ve had time to leave me behind.”

“We were worried.” Keith said as calmly as he was able, though his voice still came out tense. “When you don’t respond, we don’t know if you’re okay. So in the future, keep your helmet on, and when Shiro has us all call in, _you call in_.”

“Fine.” Geno huffed, rolling his eyes as he jammed his helmet on his head.

“And what were you even doing in that thing?” Keith gestured at the robeast corpse.

“Dissecting.” Geno beamed. “It’s been so long since I got to actually take something apart. The castle’s database is nice and all, but there’s something about peeling a live body open with your own two hands...” he trailed off into smiley silence, then shook his head briefly. “I mean, this fucker ain’t _alive_ , but I doubt I’m gonna get another chance to look at how it works.”

“You’ve gotten your look.” Keith frowned, crossing his arms. “We need to get back to the castle before Zarkon decides to try hitting us with another monster. Pidge is out of commission, and until they’re better we can’t form Voltron.”

“Five more minutes?” Geno widened his eyes, pushing his lower lip out in a pout which probably would’ve been cute if he was ten. But, he was one of the most stubborn people Keith had ever known, so he sighed and uncrossed his arms.

“Three, and then I’m dragging you back to our Lions by the scruff of your armour.”

“Four?”

“Three.” Keith said flatly. Geno huffed, and turned back towards the robeast. Keith raised his left arm, and poked at the bit of his brace which produced the shield. Pidge’s could do a holographic projection of the time, so it only made sense that his should be able to do the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not terribly happy with how this came out, but oh well ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Next chapter, cuddles and fluff. That shouldn't fight me quite as hard.


	8. Chapter 8

Lance leaned up against the single cryo-pod sticking up out of the circle of pods, glancing up from his datapad every minute or so to check it. It was silly, he knew it was silly, Allura would be here when the pod opened and she’d call the rest of them then, but sitting next to it made him feel better. An ally whose name he couldn’t remember had carried Keith back, once the fight was over. He’d looked so small, his armour cracked and stained with purple blood, his skin dangerously pale. Allura had carried him the rest of the way back to the castle, and since then he’d been lying in the cryo-pod. Lance knew he was healing, but it was still deeply unsettling to see his boyfriend lying perfectly still for days on end.

“He won’t wake for another tock at least.” Coran said, and Lance whipped his head down to see him standing just a few feet away. Fuck, when had he gotten there? “Would you mind if I kept you company?” he asked, and Lance noticed the small pillow tucked under one of his arms, along with a book.

“Sure.” he offered a weak grin, and Coran tossed his pillow down on the floor a little closer than casual distance away.

“Working on your altean?” Coran asked, making himself as comfortable as he could leaning against the pod.

“Kinda?” Lance shrugged, holding his finger down on a word he didn’t recognize until it highlighted and he could select the Translate option. “Found a cool book, but Pidge wouldn’t translate it for me so I’m mostly guessing what anything means.” he tilted the screen with one hand, showing the block of text to Coran.

“That’s an academic journal on crystalline quantum computing.” the older man said after a few seconds, evidently baffled.

“And?” Lance frowned, turning the pad back to face him and moving on to the next sentence. “This shit’s still sci-fi on Earth. It’s pretty cool.”

“Sci- fi?” Coran’s frown deepened.

Lance grinned, setting his datapad on his knees. “Y’know, mono-pole magnets and lightsabers and the Prime Directive.”

“I’ve never heard of any of these things.” Coran exclaimed, setting his book down and turning to face Lance. “What else have humans come up with?”

Lance let his head hang back against the cryo-pod, feeling its gentle vibrations through the back of his shoulders and top of his skull. “A bunch of things, really. Teleporters, flux capacitors, ansibles, probability drives, death stars. Oh, and star-killers, but those are _totally_ different from death stars.”

“Fascinating!” Coran’s eyes were practically sparkling. “I’ve never heard of any of these things.”

“Well, yeah.” Lance chuckled, leaning forward and turning towards Coran. “Humans came up with all of them, and human civilisation was only just getting started ten thousand years ago.”

“What exactly is a lightsaber?” Coran asked, and Lance grinned.

\---

Lance was in the middle of explaining the myriad ways the various crews of the Enterprise had broken the Prime Directive when Allura walked in. Or rather, that was when he noticed her moving in his peripheral vision. He startled, breaking off mid-sentence as he turned to look at Keith for the first time in, well, however long it had been since Coran walked into the room. The Red Paladin looked, well, healthy. Like he was just taking a nap. If Allura was here, that meant he’d be waking up soon.

“Oh, don’t stop on my account.” Allura smiled gently, coming to a stop a few yards in front of Keith’s pod. “Was Kirk ever punished for breaking the Prime Directive so many times?”

“Nah.” Lance chuckled, shaking his head. “Unless you count getting promoted to Admiral as a punishment.”

“How would a promotion be a punishment?” Coran frowned.

“Took him off the bridge.” Lance shrugged. In the back of his mind, Blue purred softly. He couldn’t imagine accepting a promotion that took him away from the stars. But hey, upside of being a Paladin, it wasn’t like there was any higher rank to be promoted _to_.

There were a few seconds of silence after that, and Lance glanced at Keith again. There should be timers on the cryo-pods. He’d have to ask Pidge about the feasibility of that, they got enough use out of the damn things for it to not be a frivolous request. The screen dropped with a quiet hiss, and Keith lifted a hand to rub at his eyes with the palm of his hand.

“Fuck, how long was I out?” he groaned, pushing forward and out of the pod. He stumbled forward, predictably, and Lance caught him.

“A couple days.” he said quietly as Allura waved some sort of diagnostic device in the air behind Keith. “Had me worried, you dumb mullet-head.” he butted his forehead against Keith’s gently, earning the briefest hint of a smile.

“Blame the bastard who stabbed me.” Keith mumbled, slumping slightly in Lance’s arms.

“Alright.” Allura grinned, handing the diagnostic gadget off to one of the mice on her shoulder. “After a meal and some rest, you’ll be good as new. I had Hunk start on an early dinner, and knowing him it’s ready by now.”

Keith grunted, a warm puff of air against lance’s shoulder, and he sighed. “C’mon, let’s get some food in ya.”

“Food sounds good.” Keith blinked as Lance shifted his hold so they were side by side instead of chest to chest. His face scrunched up, but his ears remained relaxed against his skull. It was adorable, and Lance couldn’t stop himself from smiling at the sight. Sleepy Keith was a rare sight to see, since his boyfriend was such an obscenely early riser, and Lance wasn’t going to miss a second of it.

\---

“I’m fine.” Keith huffed, trying to glare at Lance and only managing to look sleepy again. “I’ve gotta get some training in.”

“You can do that in the morning.” Lance said gently, pulling Keith down the hall towards the Paladins’ Quarters instead of towards the training room. “C’mon, you just got out of a three-day stint in a cryo-pod. You need to sleep.”

“You were fine.” Keith frowned, shuffling after Lance and glaring at their joined hands like he couldn’t figure out how to let go.

“Yeah, because I make it a point to not get _stabbed_ , unlike a certain idiot.” Lance flicked one of Keith’s ears gently.

“No, after-” Keith paused, and inhaled deeply through his nose. “After Sendak. You were just fine.”

“Because I was only in there for a day.” Lance rolled his eyes. “Plus, Coran gave me some altean stimulants. Remember how hard I crashed after we left the Balmera?”

“Mmmm, nope.” Keith shook his head. Lance rolled his eyes again. In all fairness, he was pretty sure Hunk was the only one of them who _hadn’t_ taken at least a nap after that fight, but he’d been out for like twelve hours. Missed dinner and everything.

“Well, trust me, I did. And if you try to go train, you’re just gonna get beat up.” Lance stopped in front of his door, and stopped Keith from wandering over to his own with a gentle tug on his hand. Letting Keith out of his sight would definitely end with Keith passed out on the training room floor with a gladiator whaling on him until it registered no response and shut down. That would mean an achy, grumpy Keith in the morning, and that wasn’t fun for anyone.

“My room’s over there.” Keith grumbled, pointing down the hall to the next doorway.

“I know.” Lance grinned, pulling Keith into his room and giving him a quick kiss. Keith made a startled squeak, and the fluff on his ears all stood on end.

“Lance.” Keith frowned when they parted. Lance sighed and stepped back a little, fiddling with the edges of his jacket over Keith’s chest.

“I was really worried, Keith. Even when you started looking better, you were so still.” he sighed and stilled his hands, curling his fingers into the well-worn fabric. “Just, stay with me tonight?” he glanced up, and felt a little thrill of happiness at Keith’s slight smile.

“Of course.” Keith stroked his face, the action gentle but a little clumsy.

“C’mere.” Lance grinned, stepping back and tugging on his jacket. Keith stumbled forwards, and Lance pulled him into a spin at the last second so when he lost his balance it was to fall down and sit on the edge of the bed. “I’ve got you.” he murmured, sitting down gently on the mattress next to Keith. “Just relax, nene. I’ll take care of you.”

Keith smiled, and Lance slid his jacket off of his boyfriend’s shoulders. Once it was hanging haphazardly from the edge of the dresser, he turned to the cryo-med suit. It unzipped down the spine, with a visible zipper since it didn’t have to be airtight, and Lance carefully peeled the slightly-clingy fabric away from Keith’s skin. That, he just tossed on the floor, where it was soon joined by his shirt and jeans and kicked-off shoes. Keith might give him shit about it in the morning, but right now he didn’t really care.

It took some maneuvering to get behind Keith and pull the blanket up over both of them, but as soon as he did Lance knew his plan was a guaranteed success. Keith had pressed back against him with a quiet purr, and practically melted at the first gentle scritch behind his ears. Lance sighed, and hooked one leg over Keith’s. The gentle rumble resonated in his chest, making his eyelids heavy, but he had to be sure Keith was at least halfway asleep before he could drift off himself.

“Love you.” Keith mumbled, twisting in Lance’s arms until they were facing each other instead of spooning. Their legs tangled with each other and the blanket, and Lance grinned.

“Love you too.” he whispered, leaning in for a quick, gentle kiss.


	9. Chapter 9

Lance inhaled through his nose, and immediately gagged. Bad plan, very bad plan. His entire cell stank of ozone and rot, the stench of druid magic. He shook his head, and inhaled deeply through his mouth. Ugh, now he could taste it. He grimaced, and exhaled until his lungs were empty. Deep breaths. Think, he had to think. He’d been stripped of his armour and bayard, but they’d left him in his flight suit, which meant even if the rest of his shit was jettisoned out of an airlock there was still a tracker on him. Hell, it was probably still broadcasting his vitals back to the castle. The others would be coming for him sooner than later.

Lance curled up against the corner, and kept breathing as deeply as he could. The others were coming for him. They had to, he was a Paladin, Blue wouldn’t take anyone else as long as he was alive. But, no, that wasn’t quite true, was it? Zarkon had once been a Paladin, and Black had still chosen to take Shiro as her new Paladin. But that was after ten thousand years of separation, and he’d only been apart from Blue for maybe a day. How long would they wait, though? How long did a Lion have to be separated from her Paladin before she’d choose a replacement? For that matter, would they have to wait at all? Allura had stated that a bond couldn’t be made by force, but she’d said nothing about it being broken by force. Would Allura decide that rescuing him was too risky, and sever his bond with his Lion so the team could find a replacement?

Lance choked on a sob and curled in on himself tighter, feeling for his bond with Blue. It was faint, weakened by distance, but still present. She was anxious, worried about her fragile organic pilot being so far from her protection. Lance couldn’t help but smile as that impression washed over him. Blue wouldn’t leave him. Even when she took another Paladin, he would always be hers. He leaned back against the wall, and let some of the tension out of his body. Blue’s presence was cool and calming, like diving into the ocean on a hot summer day. Lance exhaled, and firmed his resolve. No matter what, he wouldn’t tell the galra anything. He’d be strong, and wait for the others to find him.

They would find him. They had to.

\---

Lance groaned, and squeezed his eyes shut against the purple light. Everything hurt, but not as much as it had when he’d been strapped down on the druids’ table. He must be back in his cell. Maybe if he pretended like he was asleep, he could get a bit of rest before getting dragged off again? He wouldn’t be able to get any real rest with that stupid beep-buzzing going on though, and after a few seconds he dared to crack open an eye to try locating the source.

A second later he was very awake, bayard materializing before he’d even consciously summoned it into existence. He wasn’t in a cell at all, but propped up against a broken computer. The bridge was littered with corpses, one of which looked half dissected, and robots were scattered near the door. What had happened? Okay, no, that one was obvious. Geno had somehow gotten back their armour and bayard, made his way to the bridge, and slaughtered the present crew. At a guess, Lance would say he’d been taking apart that one mutilated corpse with his helmet off when the robots came in and- he tried to sit up, and winced. Yep, he’d definitely gotten shot.

He looked down, and took a second to take stock of himself. Everything hurt, but he didn’t seem to be bleeding so that was good. His armour was more or less in one piece, too, which was a plus. The gauntlets were covered in crusty purple blood, and both braces were splashed with it, but given the charred hole in the head of the mutilated corpse he was at least fairly certain the galra this blood came from had been dead already. The left brace was cracked under the blood splatter, a deep line gouging through the crystal which generated his shield, but aside from that and the mass of scorch marks on his breastplate the white armour just needed a quick wipe down to look good as new.

The flight suit underneath, however, was a different story. A chunk had been burnt away by blaster fire, a hard line from the small of his back to just over his hip, and he grimaced when he carefully patted around the area. That was going to scar, no doubt about it. And whenever someone came out of cryo with a new scar, it inevitably ended with Hunk and Shiro and Coran fussing over them. Well, and Keith for him, but he didn’t mind Keith fussing every once in a while. Lance sighed, and put his hand back on his bayard.

He definitely _could_ stand up and go get his helmet from the puddle of blood it was lying in, since his only major injury obviously hadn’t been bad enough to stop him from walking over here in the first place, but it would hurt a lot. And from this position he could snipe just about anything that came through the room’s only doors, so as long as this Empire didn’t have droidekas he could hold out until his back was properly scabbed over to go get his helmet.

A quiet beeping from the door made him tense, and he gritted his teeth as pain ripped across his back. He couldn’t see the operation panel from this oblique angle, but it sounded like the door was locked and someone was getting ready to come in. Lifting his bayard made his shoulders scream in agony, and Lance trained the barrel at robot head height. He only had one shot to take it out, maybe two, then it would spot him and shoot him dead. Hopefully there wasn’t a whole bunch of them. Loud footsteps rang on the metal floor, and Lance exhaled slightly. Just one pair, he was good.

He squeezed the trigger, and Pidge ducked with a yelp. He immediately dropped his bayard, a grin splitting his face. “Pidge!”

“Lance!” Pidge beamed, running over and dropping to their knees to skid the last foot or so. “I found him, he’s on the bridge.” they said, grabbing his arm at the elbow. “Geno activated a tracking beacon. Are you hurt?”

“Just a bit.” Lance grimaced. “Mostly just bruises, but my back hurts like a bitch.”

“Okay.” Pidge nodded, then frowned. “Tell him that yourself!” they paused, then rolled their eyes. “No, I’m not giving him my helmet.” they tilted their head slightly, and sighed. “One of these days I am going to shove your face in a blender.”

“The castle doesn’t even have a blender.” Lance interjected, and Pidge laughed.

“Hunk just said the same thing.” the grinned. “One sec, I’ll get you your helmet.”

Lance nodded, and a few seconds later Pidge was tucking his helmet on his head. He turned the comms on as soon as it was seated, and leaned his head back against the metal stand he was propped up against. “Hey, guys. Miss me?”


	10. Chapter 10

“You’re telegraphing again.” Keith huffed, ducking under Lance’s swing and jabbing him in the chest. Lance staggered back a step, grimacing, then came charging back at Keith with a yell. Teaching his boyfriend hand to hand was something Keith had been meaning to do for a while, but after getting him back from the galra with a new scar he’d actually made Lance start training with him. The teaching itself was hard, but in the week or so since he came out of the cryo-pod Lance had managed to land a few solid hits on him in their full-speed sparring matches. Today, however, he was fighting like an idiot. Lance made a transparent feint, and Keith popped him in the face.

“You’re off game today.” he remarked as his boyfriend reeled, clutching his face and muttering a string of Spanish curses. Lance fell on his ass, and Keith rolled his eyes. He closed the distance between them and bent down to offer a hand, and Lance let out a war cry. Keith yelped as his feet were knocked out from under him, and a second later Lance had him pinned, knee digging into his hip and one hand pinning his sword arm at the elbow. The other hand held his bayard, the barrel of which was pressed to Keith’s forehead. His eyes were wide, teeth bared, pupils pinpricks of black in his beautiful blue eyes as he gasped for air like he’d just run a marathon.

“Geno?” Keith said hesitantly, lifting his unrestrained arm with careful slowness. “Geno, it’s me. It’s Keith.”

“Keith?” Geno’s pupils dilated slightly, the arm holding his bayard shaking. “I- wha-” the bayard dissolved in a flash of light, and Keith slowly sat up. Shiro had warned them, before Lance came out of cryo, that the last thing Geno remembered was probably a combat situation, so they should treat him carefully the next time he appeared.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Keith said softly, sitting up and peeling the bayard from Geno’s fingers. “You’re okay.” he laid his palm on Geno’s breastplate, over his heart, and watched his boyfriend’s eyes widen. When they started to water, Keith pulled him into a hug. The angle was a little awkward, since Geno still had one knee on Keith’s hip, but it worked well enough. “It’s okay.” he repeated, purring deep in his chest. “You’re okay. You’re safe.” he rubbed gentle circles at the small of Geno’s back, not applying too much pressure to the still fresh scar.

Geno’s arms wrapped around him tightly, and Keith pressed a gentle kiss to his boyfriend’s jaw. Geno was shaking, his whole body trembling, and Keith pulled him into his lap for a better angle. He purred a little louder, and tucked Geno’s chin over his shoulder. Lance had only spent a few hours at the hands of the druids, which meant that Geno had been the one to endure the rest of the three days they spent on that battle cruiser.

“No les dije nada.” Geno gasped, curling against Keith as his entire body shook with the force of his sobs. “No lo hice, lo juro.”

“It’s okay.” Keith murmured, lifting his other hand to stroke the back of Geno’s head. “Está bien.” he pressed a light kiss to the tip of Geno’s ear, and kept purring. The tears passed soon enough, and once Geno’s breathing was closer to normal Keith gave his shoulder a little shake. “Hey, wanna go to my room?” he asked, pausing in his purr only long enough to speak. “We can get out of this armour, and sit on the bed instead of the floor.”

“Yeah.” Geno nodded jerkily, pulling away from Keith to stand up. He crossed his arms over his stomach as Keith stood, but didn’t resist when Keith peeled one away to hold his hand. He walked close all the way back to Keith’s room, fingers curled tightly around Keith’s own, and as soon as they’d both shucked off their armour he was pulling Keith down onto the bed. it was a little unnerving, honestly. Geno was never this clingy, never this uncertain.

“You wanna talk about it?” Keith asked after a few minutes of Geno clinging silently to him, breathing in shuddery gasps with his face buried in Keith’s chest.

Geno shook his head, and Keith stroked his hair gently. “Okay.” he said softly, carding his claws through his boyfriend’s helmet-hair. “You don’t have to talk about it until you’re ready. I’ve got you, you’re safe.” he pressed a gentle kiss to Geno’s hair, and started purring again. Not the deep, resonating thing of earlier but a soft rumble Geno probably couldn’t consciously detect. They had to be up in an hour or so for dinner, but with his boyfriend curled against him and a pillow under his head Keith could feel his eyelids drooping.

“They said I wasn’t real.”

Keith blinked hard, dragging himself back to wakefulness as he looked down at his boyfriend. “What?”

“The druids.” Geno said softly, hooking one of his legs around Keith’s and snuggling closer. “They kept demanding to talk to the real Blue Paladin.”

“You are a Paladin.” Keith said quickly, tightening his arms around Geno’s waist and chest. “I’ll gut anyone who says otherwise.”

Geno chuckled, dry and humourless, and pressed his cheek to Keith’s chest. “I already did that. Got them to give me my bayard, shot them full of holes.” he smiled, and Keith could feel it through his flight suit. “I killed every last one of those bastards. All of them on the bridge, all of them. ¿Sabías que ellos sangran morado? ¡Justo como tú! Desearía haber podido ver cómo lucían sus cerebros, pero estaban llenos de agujeros.”

“Geno?” Keith said as his boyfriend paused for breath, shifting his arm to card his claws through thoroughly mussed brown hair. “Hey, do you think you can use English? I can’t understand Spanish that fast.”

“I killed them.” Geno giggled, the sound sharp as broken glass. “All dead.”

“Yeah, you did.” Keith murmured. “They can’t hurt you anymore.” he stroked Geno’s hair almost mechanically, and purred again. “Do you want to talk to Shiro after dinner?” he asked once Geno’s sporadic giggles had petered out. “He’s been worried about you.”

Geno chuckled, and this time it didn’t sound manic or pained but natural, amused. It was the type of sound Keith treasured above most all others, one reserved solely for him.

“I’ll try. No guarantees, though.” Geno tilted his head back, and Keith bent to press a kiss to his lips. 

“Love you.” he murmured, and Geno’s answering smile was a soft, tender thing.

“Yo también.”


	11. Chapter 11

Geno spun the anatomical model in front of him slowly, considering the musculature visible where he’d peeled the holographic skin away in long strips. It was still novel, being able to come back and have his last project in the same state it had been in the last time he played with it, but there were days when he seriously missed being able to feel actual flesh under his fingertips. But, well, being able to slice through bone with a scalpel and minimal effort was sweet enough to make up for it. He sank the blade into the holographic skull, and carved a circle in above the ear holes.

The brain inside looked, well, honestly kinda boring. It was just a lump of meat. He poked at it, and his eyes widened as a text box popped up. It was in altean, but apparently Lance had been doing his homework because Geno could tell that the two options were Yes and No. He tapped Yes, and felt his face split in a smile as the brain lifted out of the skull. _That_ was more like it. The organ pulsed and glowed with colours, warmer in areas of higher activity, and a new menu hovered off to the side. It dropped down at a gentle touch, revealing a column of altean words.

Geno flicked it with his finger, and it started scrolling. After a few long seconds, he realized he knew these words. Or at least, he recognized the combinations of altean characters. This was a list of species. So in addition to having physiology scans of all these creatures, the castle had brain scans too? He grinned, and gave the menu another flick. Was his name on here? He’d sat through at least a dozen brain scans, so it should be.

A line with a forward slash caught his eye, and he stopped the menu scrolling with one fingertip. Lance/Geno. That was him! His smile widened, and he poked the selection. The alien brain vanished, and was replaced with a far more familiar sight. His brain was lit up all over the place, with a fun little X pattern on the top and a dull bit in the front. He tapped the second indented option, and tilted his head slightly at the sight of Lance’s brain. It looked the same, yeah, but it was lit up differently. Lance didn’t have the X, just a lack of warm colours in general. He did have a dark spot in the front, though it was in a different part of the brain. Huh. When he wasn’t himself, he was kinda lame.

He tapped the third option, and froze. It was like someone had taken his scan and Lance’s scan, and overlaid them. The fourth sub-selection was a different overlay, and the fifth, and the sixth... like someone had been trying to figure out what the middle ground between them would be. Coran, he realized after a second, shock and disbelief condensing into a simmering rage. That fucking shapeshifter was the only one who knew how to work the fancy medical tech, it must’ve been him.

Tablet, he had to find a tablet. Or, well, datapad. Whatever they were called, he needed one. Some rummaging turned one up, and he swiped the holographic display onto it. This was Coran’s doing, so Coran would have to explain himself.

\---

“Coran!”

Coran looked up from the code Pidge had been showing him, and grinned at the approaching Blue Paladin. “Hello, Geno.” he said brightly. The human didn't smile, closing the distance between them with heavy steps. When he was in arm's reach, he slammed the datapad in his hand into Coran’s chest with a snarl.

“ _What_ is this?”

Coran peeled the pad from the front of his shirt, and scanned the display. “Ah.” he said softly, switching to 2D projection. He wasn’t quite sure how Geno had found it, since none of the Paladins had body scans available in the database, but obviously he had located it somehow. “These are the results of your s and Lance’s brain scans.”

“Then why are there half a dozen of them?” Geno challenged. “It’s just me and Lance in here.” he gestured at his head, and Coran fought the urge to smile.

“When Hunk first informed me of your condition, it was to ask for my assistance.” he held the pad out, and let Geno take it back. “We thought that by taking brain scans of every Paladin, we could see how human brains were meant to work and devise a treatment plan. Unfortunately, the sample size is nowhere near large enough, so we had to abandon that plan.”

“That’s not an answer.” Geno scowled.

“Well, yes.” Coran shrugged. Pidge had one hand on their bayard, and looked ready to taze Geno if things got out of hand. That was good, the Blue Paladin could be almost as volatile as his boyfriend in emotionally charged situations. “The extra scans are the results of testing various potential treatment methods. By the time I had found even one which wouldn’t fry your puny human brain meat, however, you were no longer a threat.” he smiled. “So I decided to let you live life on your own terms.”

“You think I like these terms?” Geno snapped, making a sharp, sweeping gesture with the datapad. “I only get to stretch my legs every few weeks, nowadays.” he brought the pad back towards his chest, and slammed it into Coran’s ribs again. “Whatever this treatment is, I want it.”

Coran’s eyebrows lifted on his forehead, though Pidge didn’t seem that surprised. He’d have to ask about that later. “Really?” he lifted the datapad from his chest. “These are only projected results. For all we know, this procedure might simply erase one of you, or even melt your brain entirely.”

“I’m willing to risk that.” Geno growled.

“Yes, but is Lance?” Coran asked, frowning at Geno. “You can’t decide for him.”

Geno’s lips pulled back in a snarl any galra would’ve been proud of, and Pidge held their bayard out in front of him, blade crackling to life. “Hurt him and so help me I _will_ taze you.” they said firmly, stepping in front of Coran and training their bayard on Geno’s chest.

“Ooooo-kay. I missed something, didn’t I.”

Coran turned his head, and gave Hunk a bright smile. “Not at all! Just a little spat. Geno, as long as you’re here, you can help Hunk and I with repairing the cryo-pods!”

Geno spluttered, but quickly deflated, and Coran made a mental note to ask Pidge later if Geno’s behaviour regarding the procedure was anything close to normal for a human. Even after all this time living with five of them (or, well, four and a half but Keith was raised on Earth so he counted as a fifth in this case) there was so much about humans he didn’t know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In addition to having a stupidly small sample size, the “figure out how a normal brain works” plan was derailed by the fact that precisely none of the Paladins are nt. Hell, I’m not 100% convinced the _alteans_ are nt. Also none of the humans are straight, and don’t even get me started on my headcanons about altean gender/sexuality norms.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spanish dialogue courtesy of [this lovely person](http://cas-assbutt-of-thursdays.tumblr.com). (also, hover-text has been fixed)

“So this is why you wanted to talk to me...” Lance said, looking down at the datapad in his hands.

“Yes.” Coran sighed, leaning back against the counter. “The procedure wasn’t very commonly used, due to a high rate of failure when more than two personalities were being merged, but since it’s just you and Geno in there it’s unlikely to be fatal.”

“Not exactly building my confidence here, Coran.” Lance said drily. No longer having blackouts sounded really nice, but if the best Coran could say about this treatment option was ‘probably not _fatal_ ’ then he’d rather deal with the blackouts. Between Keith and the simulated anatomical models, Geno wasn’t a threat anymore. It was still disorienting, to be awake one moment and waking up the next without any drowsiness in between, 

“Well, this would be the first time the treatment has been tested on a human.” Coran shrugged. “It’s a perfectly safe procedure for altean minds to undergo, but human brain chemistry is different, so even the safest of chemical procedures are somewhat of a gamble.”

“Wait, chemical?” Lance frowned. “I thought you were talking about, like, doing some cryo-med bullshit. Pidge told me there was a risk of it melting my brain?”

“Oh, not at all.” Coran shook his head quickly. “Or, well, there’s a chance but it’s astronomically small. At least, it _was_ a small chance when used on alteans, but we’ve got enough human bio-data to make it at least a slim chance with you.” he beamed, and Lance nodded warily. “Anyways, Hunk informed me that your condition on Earth was being treated with medication, so I thought, why not try a different type of chemical treatment? It’s obviously a bit on the risky side, but as my drill sergeant always said-”

“So would this be a shot, or pills, or what?” Lance asked, cutting Coran off before he could start rambling about his boot-camp days. Coran’s impromptu history/culture lessons could be cool, if confusing, but boot camp was boot camp no matter what planet you were on.

“Oh, it’s an implant.” Coran grinned, turning and rummaging through a drawer. “They were common on Altea for medication which had to be dispensed throughout the day, or intermittently at specific times. A bit on the pricey side, but.” he shrugged, and lifted a baggie from the drawer. It had a single piece of white material in it, probably a medical version of the same material used to make the Paladin armour and castle hull and all their bayards.

“They’re a thing on Earth, too.” Lance nodded. “My moms opted not to get one for me, but they promised Viv one once she was old enough to need it.”

“Well, this is probably a bit different from what you’re used to.” Coran said, holding the baggie out so Lance could see it better. He set the datapad down, and took the thin plastic between his fingers. It was thinner than he remembered implants being, in the pictures Viv had shown him when she was doing research. Just a little wafer or white, with a thin blue line down the middle. Come to think of it, though, he couldn’t tell where the medication would come out. The line, maybe?

“A bit, yeah.” he conceded, giving back the bagged implant. “Way smaller.”

“Well, this one is slightly different from the standard ones. Those are about ye big.” Coran made a small oval-y shape with his fingers, and squinted through it. “And kinda shaped like a brumble egg.”

“A what?” Lance frowned.

“A brumble egg.” Coran repeated, as if that explained everything. Lance stared at him blankly and he traced a shape in the air with one fingertip. “Y’know, like a cylinder with rounded ends?”

“Oh, like a Mike & Ike’s!” Lance nodded. “That’s just called, like, pill-shaped on Earth. What the hell is a brumble that it lays pill-shaped eggs?”

“You don’t have brumbles on Earth?” Coran exclaimed, eyebrows lifting towards his hairline. “They’re one of the universe’s most adaptable, widespread species. Give me the datapad, I’ll pull up a picture.”

Lance handed over the pad, and leaned back on his heels as Coran’s fingers flew over it. “So, why use a special implant for me?”

“Well, for one, the disc implant is more adaptable. It was designed to shift with whoever it was implanted in, and with the proper application of quintessence it can even density-shift.” he looked up from he datapad with a quick, reassuring grin. “It should be able to mould to th inside of your skull without a problem.”

“Wait, _what_?!” Lance yelped. “You’re going to cut open my skull?”

“Oh, no.” Coran shook his head quickly. “I’m not nearly qualified to do that. No, what I’ll be doing is applying quintessence to the implant remotely so that its density becomes low enough it can sink through your hair and scalp and skull. Then once it’s in the brain cavity, it’ll become dense enough to seal against the bone.”

“That doesn’t sound safe at all.” Lance frowned. “Are you sure this is the best option?”

“As sure as I am that this is a brumble.” Coran said, flicking a picture up off the datapad into the air. Lance definitely didn’t scream and scramble backwards, much less trip over his own feet. He also definitely didn’t land on his ass and throw his arms up as a shield. Nope, not at all.

“WHAT THE FUCK.” he yelled, glaring at Coran. “Warn a guy before throwing a giant cockroach in his face!”

“That’s a normal sized brumble.” Coran frowned. “Actually, it’s a bit on the small side. The ones out by my grandmother’s were at least two spans longer.”

“What?” Lance squeaked, scooting further back. He still wasn’t quite sure how big a span was, but the Lions weren’t even a hundred spans tall so it was more than a few inches.

“Oh, yes.” Coran smiled fondly, reaching out to pat the holographic image. “She had the local gang of ‘em halfway to domesticated, always dumping her trash where they could reach.”

“Well, on Earth they’re called cockroaches and they’re _really fucking gross_.” he scooted a little further back, and relaxed slightly when Coran flicked the image back down to the datapad.

“Really?” Coran frowned at the screen in his hand. “I always thought they were rather charming fellows.”

“Can we maybe get back to why you want to stick something in my head?” Lance snapped, pushing himself to his feet with a shudder. God, he was almost glad Altea had been destroyed if it meant those things no longer existed. “Implants go in, like, your arm or shoulder or whatever.”

“Oh, yes, the regular ones do.” Coran nodded. “But this one is specifically for fixing chemical imbalances in the brain, so it’s applied to the inside of the skull. The implant itself is perfectly safe. Why, I’ve had to get one a few times. It’s the chemicals that pose a potential, er, problem. But even that is minimal risk, really.”

Lance sighed, and brushed his jacket down briskly. Sure the castle didn’t have any bugs on it, but his skin still felt all gross and crawly. “Maybe next time you should lead with that.” he muttered, zipping his jacket and flipping the hood up. Being one person again would be nice, and Coran _was_ pretty meticulous when it came to their safety, so... “I’m in.”

“In, what?” Coran frowned.

“I’m down with the plan to stick an implant in my skull.”

“Oh, well, in that case.” Coran beamed, turning around and pulling a small box from the drawer he’d taken the baggie out of earlier. “Hold this, do not open it, and let me get some antiseptic wipes.”

Lance curled his fingers around the dull gray container, and felt a small smile tugging at his lips. Finally, maybe things could go back to some semblance of normal.

\---

_“Ugh.” he sat up and pressed a hand to his forehead. What day was it? What time was it? He glanced at the clock next to the bed. Morning? He almost never woke up in the morning, especially not still in bed. “ ¿Qué carajos hiciste, Lance?” he groaned, rubbing his head. It hurt worse than any head injury he’d ever suffered, even the self-inflicted ones on that alien planet where he’d crashed for a week, the second time he ever woke up in space._

“No hice nada.” he said, rubbing at his eyes. He had just enough time to shower and brush his teeth before breakfast, like always, but this stupid headache was sapping all his energy. Fuck it, he could grab some space-ibuprofen from Coran after breakfast and brush his teeth before training.

_“ Bueno, mi cabeza duele, y es mañana, así que obviamente hiciste alg-” he paused, eyes widening._

“Qué carajo.” they said, looking down at their hands. “¿Soy- nosotros?”

“ _Coran._ ” he growled, swinging their legs out of bed and standing.

“Espera, espera.” he said, hands coming up to grip at his hair, arms blocking his vision. “Tengo- _Tenemos_ que actuar normal. No quiero espantar a los otros. ”

They stood silent for a few seconds, just breathing, swaying slightly on their feet. “ _Buen punto._ ” he said, arms lowering. “ _Actuarían todos quisquillosos. Quizás tendría que apuñalar a alguien._ ”

“¡No, no, no apuñalar a nadie!” he said quickly.

“ _Nunca dije que sería **fatal**._ ” he smirked, but only briefly before their face fell back to a neutral expression.

“No apuñalar a nuestros amigos, fatalmente o de otra forma.” he said firmly, glaring at the wall over their dresser.

“ _Sería sólo con un tenedor de plástico._ ” he cajoled.

“No.” he said, and they crossed the room into the bathroom. Their robe was hanging where it always hung, and they pulled it on with a muffled yawn.

“ _¿Eres siempre tan lento en la mañana?_ ” he asked as they headed towards the door.

“¿Y tú no?” he fired back, stuffing his feet in his slippers and plodding towards the door. Maybe they could get meds from Coran before breakfast. Even the sound of their own voice was starting to hurt.

“ _No._ ” he huffed. They made their way to the kitchen from there in silence, and gave Hunk something approximating a wave before going and grabbing Coran by the sleeve. The altean tilted his head at them, and their face screwed up as they tried to recall the right word in English.

“Headache?” they asked after a few seconds, and Pidge patted the back of their shoulder with a sympathetic sound.

“Ibuprofen, my man. Works wonders.” they said flatly.

“We’ve got something for that in medical.” Coran gave a small smile. “Do you want to come get a dose, or stay here while I grab it for you?”

They nodded, and shuffled back towards the hallway.

“Save us some breakfast, will you Hunk?” Coran asked softly. “Lance and I’ll be back once his head is feeling better.”

“Sure thing.” the Yellow Paladin said brightly.

Coran’s steps were nearly silent as he caught up to them, and for that they were grateful.

“How bad is it?” Coran asked after a few minutes of quiet walking.

“Bad.” they grimaced, searching their memory for the right words. “Feels like...” they made a spinning motion with their finger against the side of their head. “Drilling out of our skull.”

“Our?” Coran frowned slightly.

“Our?” he said quickly, straightening up. “Sorry, my. My skull.” he tapped the base of their palm against their head, and immediately winced.

“ _ **Our** skull, you idiot._ ” he growled, their hands curling into fists. “ _He’s behind this._ ”

“Oh, it’s working!” Coran beamed, clasping his hands together. “How do you two feel?”

They glowered at him.

“Aside from the headache, that is.” Coran grinned sheepishly.

“Weird.” they said after a minute.

“Oh, well, that’s to be expected.” Coran waved his hand dismissively. “But by the end of the month, We’ll know if you need a higher dosage.”

“How?” they frowned.

“Oh, well, the documentation recommends nudging the dosage up monthly until assimilation is achieved.”

“Assimilation?” They asked, eyes widening slightly.

“Oh, yes.” Coran nodded. “It may be a bit awkward, but I’m sure you’ll make the shift smoothly enough.”

“Assimilation.” they murmured, looking down at their fingers curled in the edges of their robe.

“Oh, what should we call you now?” Coran asked as he opened the door to medical.

They shrugged. “Lance is okay.” they said after a moment.

“ _I answered to that for a long time, before we wound up in space._ ” he said more softly.

“Alright then, Lance.” Coran smiled, holding out a pair of small green pills and a glass of water. “These will help with the headache. If you’re lucky, it won’t come back.”

They smiled, and took the medicine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was torn between making brumbles cockroaches and dinosaurs, tbh. And now I’m gonna go ahead and headcanon that Altea had both and nobody can stop me.
> 
> This could’ve been two chapters, but honestly I just want this fic to be over. Finally, I can close the tab and focus on other things! Cy, I hope you’re happy with this, because GOD was it a monster to write.


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